


Mission Christmas

by JBS_Forever



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, HA see what i did there, I stuck Wanda in here cause I love her, I'll let myself out, Tony Stark Has A Heart, basically fluff, it grew three sizes in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBS_Forever/pseuds/JBS_Forever
Summary: A last-ditch attempt to lift Peter's spirits for the holidays.Yeah, yeah. Tony knows.





	Mission Christmas

Tony doesn't know what he expected, but the petrified teenager standing on the curb certainly wasn't in the Ways-Peter-Might-React-To-Tony-Stark-Picking-Him-Up-From-School handbook Pepper had so kindly taken upon herself to inform him of when he came up with this brilliant idea.

 

Well, _okay_ , the idea had been suggested first by Pepper, but that is really neither here nor there.

 

“So,” he says. “Are you gonna get in? Or should I come back and try again?”

 

Peter doesn't move. His eyes are wide. “What – uh, what are you doing here?”

 

“I'm waiting for you to get in the car. Obviously. Now let's go.”

 

“Is there a mission?”

 

“Yes. A very important mission. It's code-named 'get in the car.' I'll tell you about it when you're, you know, _inside the car_.”

 

Peter snaps out of his shock at that – and yeah, of course he would, wouldn't he? – and hurries to open the door to the backseat. Tony stops him with an arched eyebrow.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Um, getting in?”

 

“I'm not a chauffeur. Get in the front.”

 

Peter's face morphs into that same look of terror and disbelief, and Tony wonders a second if he's gonna need to hire someone to scrape this kid off the floor every time they talk, but Peter scrambles quickly into the passenger seat and closes the door.

 

Tony rolls his eyes and follows suit.

 

“So where's the mission?”

 

“Top secret location,” Tony says. He shifts into gear and peels away from the school with an embarrassing amount of flashy showmanship. Peter glances at the side mirror.

 

“Top secret? Holy shit,” he murmurs.

 

Tony snorts. He's surprised Peter isn't firing a million questions at him like he normally would, but then again, he seems to have caught Peter off-guard. He's so used to the rambling, over-excited version of Peter that he didn't stop to think about what he was like around normal people – something he saw only a minute of when Peter was walking down the front steps of Midtown with one of his nerdy friends and he actually appeared to be almost subdued compared to what Tony is used to.

 

“You're in for a wild ride, kid.”

 

Peter perks up at that.

 

They're pulling into the compound twenty minutes later. Tony leads them inside, trying to ignore the way Peter is clutching his backpack to his chest. His suit is buried somewhere inside there and Tony knows he's beyond ready to put it on and use it.

 

Which sucks for him.

 

“Surprise,” Tony says once they've reached the third floor. On the ground in what they've established as the “living room” are piles of lights and strings of decorations and boxes of ornaments that are spilling over the edge of the cardboard. There's a tree in the corner, one that hadn't been there when Tony left, and another box in front of it.

 

Peter tenses. “What's going on? I thought – you said there was a mission?”

 

“There _is_ a mission,” Tony says. “Mission Christmas.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, it's corny. I didn't come up with it. Don't blame me.”

 

At the pointed expression on Peter's face, Tony decides he'll go back to letting this whole thing be Pepper's idea.

 

“Ah.” He's spared of any further explanations when Pepper and Wanda emerge from the hallway. “There are the culprits behind this. Ask them. They – what the hell are you wearing?”

 

Wanda looks down at her sweater, which Tony can only describe as something that looks like Christmas threw up on it, got drunk, and came back to throw up again.

 

“It's festive,” she says.

 

“It's blinding.”

 

“I think it's nice,” Peter offers.

 

“You would.”

 

“Well,” Pepper says. “Who invited the Grinch?”

 

“I am not a Grinch. I'm simply a fan of not having my corneas burned out,” Tony says, but he's clearly outnumbered. He stands down while it's still his own choice.

 

“Tell the kid why you made me bring him here before he goes into cardiac arrest.”

 

Wanda lifts one set of tangled lights with a flick of her wrist and hovers them over to Peter. He catches them when she lets go, and Tony can tell he's using all his strength not to geek out about her powers in front of everyone.

 

“We're having a party tonight and we need to get this place ready,” Pepper says.

 

Peter frowns a little, his mouth twisting. “But why am _I_ here?”

 

“To help,” says Wanda.

 

Okay, so they're not even trying to create excuses. Tony can get on board with that. It's easier than telling the kid that Pepper and Wanda and Natasha – and freakin' Rhodey, for god's sake – noticed how down he's been since just before Thanksgiving and wanted to lift his spirits.

 

It's also easier than telling him they all know this is the first Christmas since his uncle died.

 

So Mission Christmas it is.

 

“Put your stuff down,” Tony says. “You've got a lot of work to do.”

 

“You're not staying?”

 

“I gotta take care of something downstairs, but I'll be back up. If you're asking if I'm _decorating_ , the answer is hell no. That's all on you guys. I pay people for this, I don't do it myself.”

 

Peter doesn't miss a beat. “Are you paying me?”

 

“Don't push it.”

 

He grins widely and deposits his backpack on a recliner, one hand still twisted in the lights. Tony checks the time.

 

“Have fun. Don't drink the eggnog.”

 

“There's eggnog?”

 

“I'll let you take care of this one,” Tony says to Pepper, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She scowls.

 

 

 

It takes him half an hour to meet with the new CEO of some company he's forgotten the name of and another ten minutes to confirm a guest list with Happy that he's already confirmed twice before this.

 

“It's a small party, Hap,” he says. “Stop getting all worked up. You're worse than the kid sometimes.”

 

“I resent that.”

 

“As you should.”

 

Happy heads upstairs with him, and when they reach the landing they both come to a halt. It's pure _Elf_ in there, the bare tree now full of hanging icicles and red and green bulbs, lights strung around it and draped across the ceiling and the edges of the counter. Someone has stuck an equally loud wreath on the wall – Wanda, no doubt – and a few matching garlands are spread over the entryways.

 

“See, you have to cut off the edge,” Peter says, drawing Tony's attention to where he and Wanda are sitting crossed legged on the floor, a stack of papers in front of them. Peter has one piece in his hand that's folded over, and he sets down his scissors and opens it, revealing a snowflake.

 

“If you don't cut the edges off it stays the same shape as the paper.”

 

“I see,” Wanda says, and she so laser-focused on the kid that he might as well be teaching her how to protect herself from the world's most dangerous villain.

 

“Wow,” Happy mutters.

 

Peter's head swivels toward them. “Oh. Hey, Happy.”

 

“Hey, kid.”

 

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks. At the same time, Pepper slinks up beside Tony.

 

“You'd better say nice things,” she whispers in his ear. “Or I'll tell them it's not enough and we'll go get more decorations.”

 

“It's great,” Tony says. Pepper smiles proudly, but to Tony's surprise, Peter looks embarrassed.

 

“It's not too much?” he asks. “I could take the wreath down. Or some of the lights.”

 

“It's perfect, kid. Once you guys get those snowflakes up it'll be a masterpiece.”

 

Jeez, he's pushing on pure fluff here. He's expecting a little of that happy sense of approval the kid usually gets when Tony commends him on something. He doesn't get any of it.

 

“We're making gingerbread men,” Wanda says. “Do you want to decorate with us?”

 

“Sure, why not. I love me a good Tony Stark designed cookie.”

 

Tony can't actually remember the last time he ate a gingerbread cookie. Things like that, like _this_ , have been so unimportant for so long that it's hard to make them real again. Domestic life has never been quite his style. This is uncharted and unfamiliar to him.

 

But, despite that, it all comes naturally. Natasha shows up after they've pulled the tray from the oven and they all gather in the kitchen area and paint icing on the cookies. Wanda makes one of herself, Pepper makes one of Tony and then promptly bites his head off. Peter's is just a generic face and body, but he seems pretty pleased with it and he sets it aside to let it harden. He and Wanda decorate a few more and then continue on with the last of their snowflakes while the rest of them take the remaining gingerbread men.

 

Yeah, it's all very domestic and peaceful and so unlike their actual lives that Tony forgets the main reason they decided to do this. He just knows it's nice to see the kid enjoying himself without needing to prove himself.

 

“He made one of Thor,” Pepper says, stifling a laugh. She's right. There's even a tiny hammer to accompany it and it appears to be swinging at the cookie Tony made in his own image.

 

“You're gonna pay for that,” he calls over to Peter.

 

Peter doesn't turn around. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

 

Getting even comes in the form of breaking Thor's legs off and Tony decorating a new cookie that is just on the right side of being crude enough that Pepper has him get rid of it before Peter can see. Natasha makes sure to snap a picture of it before it's gone and she shows it to Wanda after they're done hanging the snowflakes from the ceiling.

 

“I don't understand,” Wanda says. “How is that supposed to fit there?”

 

Pepper hurries forward before Peter can peak at the screen. “All right. That's good. How about we don't scar the kid?”

 

“I think puberty beat us to that,” Tony says.

 

Natasha chuckles, but she puts her phone away and she helps Peter adjust a few ornaments on the tree before everyone steps back to examine it with the released tension often associated with satisfaction. The entire place is lit up and twinkling and so homey that none of his guests are going to know what hit them.

 

“Well,” Tony says. “I think it's time we get ready. You know, change clothes and all that. People are gonna be arriving soon.”

 

“I know that 'change clothes' part was to me,” Wanda says, moving past him with an air of mischievous danger in her voice. “But just so you know, the sweaters only get more festive from here.”

 

Tony groans. He has no doubt he just made this ten times worse than it needs to be. Typical.

 

“Um, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks. He shifts on his feet, shoves his fists into his pockets. “I'm not really … dressed for a party. So ...”

 

“That's fine.” Tony looks at the time again. “Happy will take you home. He can pick up your aunt while he's there.”

 

“We're invited?”

 

“Duh. Do you think I just made you come over to decorate for me?”

 

“I mean, yeah. Kind of.”

 

“Everyone's a critic.”

 

Peter pulls his lips between his teeth. His eyes are tracking motions behind Tony, but when he speaks again, quiet and almost wounded, it's clear who the words are for.

 

“Why're you doing this?”

 

“Doing what?” Tony asks.

 

“This.” Peter motions around. “Inviting me over to hang lights and make cookies and come to a Christmas party. We don't … I mean, we're not ...”

 

God, Tony feels like a piece of shit. It's not hard for him to catch on to what the kid is implying. It's been at least a month since Tony has seen him. Peter comes to train with Natasha and whoever else Natasha pulls in with them, but Tony himself rarely encounters them. Happy is always the one to pick him up, or May drops him off, and Tony is always in meetings when he's there or he's out of the state or doing some other kind of business stuff that never takes a break.

 

Pepper had sent Tony to drive Peter here for that very reason. Hell, Tony hadn't even _known_ Peter was having a hard time lately until Pepper told him.

 

“Can't I do something nice without being accused of ulterior motives?”

 

“No."

 

Tony throws his hands up. “It's the new Stark. Get on board. Train's leaving with or without you.”

 

It appears that Peter would rather not be on board for this, though. He just softens his expression.

 

“Oh. This is about Ben, isn't it?” he says. Not a question. Just a statement. Tony has no way out of this now.

 

“It's about _you_.”

 

“I'm okay, Mr. Stark. Really. It's … it's been a little hard for me and May. But we're okay.”

 

“I know you are, kid,” Tony says. “How about you just humor all the people who are trying to make you feel better?”

 

Peter's eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You mean … ?”

 

“Yeah. Mission Christmas was designed by all the ladies in the compound. Rhodey included. But look, I'm not totally naive. I know this isn't exactly art therapy or whatever hippie stuff the kids are into these days. And I know it's not gonna suddenly just make everything perfect again. But you've got a team of people here behind you who want you to be happy. You don't have to be okay right now. Just let them be there for you, all right?”

 

Yup, Tony has officially delved into the Hallmark movie Christmas speech. He's going to give Pepper an earful about this later. This is supposed to be _Peter_ 's cheesy coming-of-age story. Not the story of how Tony's heart grew three sizes.

 

“Okay,” Peter says, nodding. “I – okay.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. And … thanks, Mr. Stark.”

 

It doesn't feel like well-deserved appreciation, but Tony holds onto it. Even when the guests start arriving and Peter goes home and comes back with May and is wearing a sweater as annoying as the new one Wanda has donned. Even when Tony's warm with alcohol and the room is filled with laughter and stories that settle into the walls and the floor and will reverberate there long after everyone has left.

 

Maybe he doesn't deserve the gratitude, but watching Pepper and Natasha talk, watching Wanda explain paper snowflakes to Vision, watching Rhodey compliment Peter on the decorations as Peter lights up with the excitement everyone has been missing lately – and watching when they all see it, when they all they share a knowing look laced with the released tension often associated with satisfaction ...

 

Tony will take it.

 

He toasts one drink to the kid. He toasts the other to the sky.

 

“Here's to you, Ben,” he mutters, and swallows the gin down. “You did good.”

 

Across the space between them, Peter meets his gaze and smiles.

 

Heightened hearing.

 

Yeah, yeah. Tony knows.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Eve! I wanted to write a Christmas based fic that wasn't filled with angst like my other ones are, so this is what happened. I hope you guys all have a wonderful holiday and eat all the Thor cookies you can. <3


End file.
